Wordsmoker

Oh, by the time I post this shit I’ll probably be tipsy, as I don’t normally drink alcohol, and the cheap Chilean white I’ve got chilling in the fridge isn’t going to drink itself. And I quite like marking horrible annual events through the liquid medium of The Wine. Yes, I fucking hate New Year’s Eve, or Hogerty Dog as we sometimes never call it in Bonnie Fucking Scotland. Rob me of my senses, please.

I might fuck around on here until I pass out drunk and weepy because I’m alone and not getting tits rubbed in my face or something brilliant like that. Everyone should have tits rubbed in their face on Hogerty Dog – it’s almost a Scottish tradition. That and the traditional first-foot – when a tall, dark-haired junkie breaks into your home looking for laptops and brings you good luck and a selection of heroin substitutes.

With all this somehow in mind, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you all for reading and writing and donating to Wordsmoker. For visiting occasionally, too. In one of the bleakest years of my life (so far), your company is the one true good thing to come out of this craptastic year.

Thanks. Just – thanks.

And have a good one, when it comes.

Your Editor

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